


waiting for the fall

by tobedecided



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Trailer, Gen, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Speculation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-24
Updated: 2018-12-24
Packaged: 2019-09-25 21:19:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17128925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tobedecided/pseuds/tobedecided
Summary: "It'll smell," Tony said calmly as they discussed their fate over the remaining rations. "You shouldn't have to deal with that during your last days.”





	waiting for the fall

He had a cat once as a child.

In a huge mansion with mostly absent parents, rescuing a stray New York City tabby cat and hiding him in one of your closets was far too easy. Of course, it wasn't long before Tony had to confide to Jarvis for the sake of getting food and litter for his new companion.

(Also, the kitten peed on his sheets and Tony didn't want his parents to think he still wet the bed.)

When Jarvis pressed him to come up with a name for the cat, Tony did what child of Howard Stark would've done: he named him after his hero Captain America.

"...and if Daddy finds out about Cap, there's no way he'd make me get rid of him! Captain America was his friend," Tony explained, his smile revealing the front tooth he recently lost.

Jarvis softened his expression. "You know I don't like keeping secrets from your father, Tony, but perhaps we should wait to tell him about the newest addition to the Stark family."

"Okay, Jarvis." Tony nodded. "But can I tell Obie?"

 

 

 

 

Tony loved spending time with Cap more than anything. Jarvis offered to get some toys for them to play with, but Tony chose to make his own out of whatever objects he could find laying around the mansion.

Everything was fine until one day he couldn't find Cap after his piano lesson. Calling out to him did nothing. Spilling a whole bag of treats on the floor didn't work either.

Jarvis found Cap eventually, unmoving in Tony's bedroom closet.

Tony was devastated. This wasn't like the time when his mom's mother passed away. Aside from vague memories of visiting her in Italy, he hadn't really known his grandmother. Loosing Cap was an entirely different form of grief. He remembered sleeping in his closet for almost a week, unable to cope with the fact that Cap was never coming back from the vet.

"This isn't fair! I didn't get to say goodbye," Tony cried as Jarvis failed to coax him out from behind his winter coats.

"Sometimes cats know when their time has come," Jarvis explained. "They hide in places they feel safe."

Tony’s heart sank. "Cap knew he was going to die and he didn't find me?"

Jarvis sighed, reaching down to place a supportive hand on his shoulder. "He was very sick, Tony. He didn't want you to worry yourself.”

Tony found out later in life that this wasn't true. Cats seek solitude in death not because they don't want to worry their owners, but because of feline instinct. It's in their nature.

Maybe that's why he snuck away from Nebula and retreated to the back of the ship to die alone.

He had his taste of the good life surrounded by Pepper, Rhodey, Happy, and the others, but a part of him had known for a while he would ultimately face death alone. Wanda had shown him just as much.

Tony and Nebula knew their days were numbered once they left Titan. Aside from the atmosphere, the barren planet offered no real refuge. It was either die from lack of food and water on Thanos’ fucked up planet surrounded by the dust of their friends, or pack it up and venture out into space in hope of finding rescue. Unfortunately, having half the universe turn to dust severely limited their chances of crossing paths with any survivors.

In some ways, Tony felt like Nebula got the short end of the stick. Although her organic systems depended on less food and water than a human, the majority of her biology still required minuscule traces of oxygen. She'd outlive him, if only for a few more days.

"It'll smell," Tony had said calmly as they discussed their fate over the remaining rations. "You shouldn't have to deal with that during your last days.”

Nebula shook her head. "I lost my sense of smell years ago. One of my sensory modifications failed. I didn't see the need to get it repaired. Most of the places Thanos sent me to smelt of blood and waste."

Tony gave a weak laugh. "Look, I appreciate the sentiment. But I call bullshit."

"You won't live to find out so what does it matter?" Nebula countered.

"Point taken. Just promise me you won’t use the trash chute."

Nebula glared at him, clearly disturbed at the thought. “Do you think so little of me? I’m unfamiliar with Terran customs for disposing of dead soldiers, but I think I can do better than a trash pod.”

_We’re not soldiers!_

Tony's mind flashed back to another tragedy, that moment on the helicarier with Steve before the Battle of New York. The familiarity of those words made him feel uneasy. Soldiers die honorably. There was nothing honorable about dying alone in space from starvation and hypoxia.

In the end, Strange traded the Time Stone for nothing. If there was some grand plan, some legitimate reason to trade half the universe for the life of one, he’d never find out why. Once Nebula caught him more than once talking to Rhodey, Tony knew his time was running out.

So here he sat, sitting alone in the cargo hold of Quill’s ship thinking of his dead childhood cat.

As consciousness began to drift, the sound of his labored breathing unsettled him even more than the pulsing pain coming from his side. Tony couldn’t tell if that was from the stab wound or from kidney failure, both equally worrisome for someone who had more than a few hours to live.

He’d come close to this moment so many times before, a part of him oddly found solace in the fact he knew what to expect. His life wasn't about to flash before his eyes, nor was there going to be a bright white light when the end finally came.

He thought of Pepper, the recording he left her in the helmet of the destroyed armor. She’d never hear it, though. Given their luck, odds were some alien would discover their ship years from now, decaying from drifting in the vastness of space.

The arc reactor felt unusually heavy in his chest. Tony wondered if it would give out long before anyone stumbled upon the ship. He remembered the version he created in a dark Afghani cave, how Yinsen said it would run his heart for fifty lifetimes. Tony figured one lifetime was enough, so he hadn’t done the math. Even still, it was safe to assume the nanotech reactor would run for twice as long, serving as a welcome find for whoever dared to loot their ship. He cursed himself for not asking Nebula to destroy it after he died, wanting to protect his tech until the very end.

In a post-Thanos world, he wasn't sure whether it mattered or not.

Tony let his eyes rest as he tried to ignore the blinking lights coming from one of the consoles across the room, alerting him of the deathly low levels of oxygen.

A sudden, loud thud from the side of the ship where the docking port was jolted him from where he sat on the floor. Space debris, Tony thought absently. He shifted in his makeshift cot as a slight change in cabin pressure made his ears pop.

Curious, Tony forced an eye open and noticed the lights were on in the room. Weird. Hadn’t he turned them off?

His weak heart began to beat vigorously as adrenaline shot through his veins.

He wasn’t alone anymore.

Tony didn’t know what religion had a version of Hell with a talking bipedal raccoon as the gatekeeper, but it was unsettling to say the least. He pushed away with weak arms as the raccoon reached for his mouth, trying to smother him.

“Where the fuck is Captain Terra? Get him in here!” the raccoon shouted down the hall.

This was it. He finally reached insanity. It was unpleasant, but it wouldn’t last much longer. Death was around the corner.

Tony flinched as a set of non-raccoon hands press pressed against his neck before reaching towards the arc reactor.

_No…no…no...no._

Hallucinations be damned, fight or flight kicked in and Tony began using his last bit of energy to lash out at his attacker. He cried out in pain as someone hit the healing knife wound on his side, instinctively causing him to curl inward.

Voices yelled at him but he couldn’t make out the words over his own screams. Unable to breathe, Tony started choking violently.

“Tony! Tony, you have to calm down. Please.”

Tony froze. He knew that voice. And it wasn’t coming from the raccoon's mouth.

_Steve?_

“Hey, stay with me now,” Steve said, his voice soft and familiar. He even wore a smile on his face. “Thor’s bringing the oxygen tanks up now.”

“What?” Tony frowned, not recognizing the hoarseness of his own voice.

“Jesus, Tony. We thought you were dead.”

Tony watched passively as Steve took off his helmet and gloves to wipe away the tears trailing down his face. An overwhelming wave of panic washed any hope he had left. This couldn’t be real – Steve crying for  _him?_

“Shh, it’s okay. We’re going home.” Steve pulled out one of those silver blankets for shock victims and wrapped it around him. “Stay awake for me.”

For once in his life, Tony was at a loss for words. He knew he should say something— _anything_ —but the words wouldn’t come out. This was  _Steve_  and they hated each other (but Tony still carried the flip-phone in his pocket). _Steve_ , who lied to his face (but came all this way to rescue him).

“Hey, Shellhead—” Steve paused, clearly surprised at himself for using Tony’s old nickname like they were still a team, still friends. “We just got here. Don’t fall asleep on me now.”

Tony’s head swam as his eyes burned with fresh tears. Nothing made sense. He should be relieved, and yet—

 _I was ready this time,_ Tony thought to himself.

The horrified look on Steve’s face told him he might have said those words out loud. It was mildly concerning, but Tony couldn’t seem to devote any energy into caring. In fact, he couldn’t seem to do much of anything as exhaustion and shock began to overwhelm him. He found it increasingly hard to focus on Steve as his vision began to vignette around the edges.

Tony wasn’t sure at what point Steve raised him up into a hug, but a part of himself hated the fact that he found it comforting.

He suddenly remembered all the unsent text messages on the burner phone, the words he didn't have the strength to say then, or even now.

It was a damn shame. Steve was alive and here he was dying in the man's arms. Tony tried to imagine a different ending, one where they avenged the lives of those they lost to Thanos, a world where they fought side by side and not at each other. 

Something sparked inside his oxygen-deprived mind. Was that the winning possibility Strange saw? Could they undo what Thanos had done?

Tony clung to these thoughts with a renewed sense of purpose. The hope he buried days ago when they emptied the ship's last water reserve began to rise once more. He tightened his grip on Steve's shoulders, determined to bring him closer to tell him what he knew, what they still needed to do. 

Unfortunately, his injuries couldn't be healed by willpower alone.

Steve continued to shout idle threats at him to stay awake, but Tony could barely hear them over the ringing in his ears. It shouldn’t come as a surprise, he never was one to follow orders—especially if they came from Steve.

Tony felt his eyes close as he drifted off into nothingness, wondering if he had used up the last of his nine lives.

**Author's Note:**

> I told myself I wouldn't watch the endgame trailer but it was literally EVERYWHERE.  
> idk who's going to save Tony and Nebula but that isn't going to keep me from writing fic for all the of the possibilities. (also I'm avoiding future spoilers so please avoid mentioning anything from articles/set pictures. thanks!!)


End file.
